


Constellations

by omchan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Constellations, Dreams, Flashbacks, Fluff, Freckles, M/M, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omchan/pseuds/omchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is our personal constellation, all right?" A modern AU featuring stars and fluffy jeanmarco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> Yay~ Another jeanmarco fic <3 
> 
> Again, probably some OOCness involved... 
> 
> I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan! 
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> EDIT: Just found a lovely song that kind of matches the fic~ Stardust by Lunafly <3

"Will you take me to the stars one day?" 

Jean didn't know who said it. The sound echoed, from somewhere to his right, but when he turned, he found himself unable to see clearly. 

He only just caught a glimpse of a quirked smile, and his own voice saying, "of course," before everything dissolved. 

***

The alarm clock was annoying as hell. As the loud beeps continued on, Jean's hand shot out in search of the snooze button. 

When he was unable to find it, he groaned, shrinking under the covers in an effort to get away from the sound. 

Why in the world was his alarm blaring on a freaking Sunday? He usually never forgot to turn it off on a day he could sleep in. 

Oh right. 

His sister wanted to go to the planetarium. 

Grumbling, Jean resigned himself to getting up, and stretched, blinking his bleary eyes. He still wasn't exactly sure why they had to go so early in the morning. More importantly, why him? Why did he have to drive? 

"I'm busy," his mother had said. "And you have nothing better to do, seeing as your social life is pretty limited." Hurtful. Weren't mothers supposed to support their children unconditionally? 

And anyway, he did have a social life. He even had a potential girlfriend! Ahh, Mikasa. The most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth. Too bad her choice of friends was horrible. Armin was all right, but EREN. So stupid. 

Well, enough about that. Thinking about Eren was just about the worst way to start off his morning, and Jean was not in the mood. 

He cleared his mind, and went about his daily routine, mundane as could be.

His sister was already waiting by the time Jean finished brushing his teeth and eating, and boy was she impatient. "Let's go, let's go!" She insisted, pulling at Jean's sleeve. 

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, taking his keys out. It was going to be a long day. 

After a tedious drive, punctuated by his sister's excited comments, Jean finally pulled in to the parking lot by the planetarium. 

He didn't really get his sister's newfound obsession with stars. It must've had something to do with the fact that there was a boy she wanted to impress in the astronomy club. 

Not that he was supposed to know that. It was just that it wasn't exactly hard to figure out, especially when a certain diary was left open on the kitchen table. Jean rolled his eyes. Whatever. He didn't really care. 

They walked in to the building, purchased two tickets, and settled in for the show. 

Jean yawned. As it was dark in the room, it seemed like a perfect place to nap. He'd gotten up much too early. 

Most of the show had passed by the time he woke up. 

The seat beside him, previously unoccupied, was now being used by a boy. He looked to be around the same age as him, maybe 16 or 17-ish. His dark, shiny hair was parted in the middle, his bangs curling about his forehead in a charming way. 

The boy, feeling Jean's stare, turned slightly to glance at him. The sight of his face made an electric current run down Jean's spine. 

The smattering of freckles, that hesitant smile, the warm eyes. It seemed all too familiar, but it was extraordinarily odd, seeing as they'd never met each other in their entire lives. 

And then the moment was gone. The boy focused his attention on the ceiling once more, his eyes lighting up at the constellations scattered across the sky. 

Jean felt inexplicably drawn to him, and as a result he drifted out of the show in a daze, his sister silent for once. 

It was only when he saw the freckles again that he snapped out of his delirium. "Go back to the car," he told his sister. "I'll buy you Starbucks on the way home." 

Placated by the offer, she left willingly, and Jean hurriedly waded through the crowd towards the boy. His height made him quite easy to spot, and he was in front of him in no time. 

The boy, upon recognising him, smiled gently. "Hi," he said cheerfully. 

"Hey." Jean answered. Really, what was he doing? Now that he was here, he was at a loss for what to do. 

As his mind raced to find something to say, he was saved by the boy saying, "Umm, my name's Marco. Marco Bodt. Ah, it's nice to meet you." 

Jean quickly took the hand offered to him, but the mere touch of their skin made shivers run down his spine. "Oh, uhh. I'm Jean Kirschstein." He stuttered. 

"Jean," Marco repeated, testing the feel of the name on his tongue. "I like it." 

Feeling a strange heat rising in his cheeks, Jean bit his lip and averted his eyes. What the hell was going on? 

"Hey, you wanna go outside?" Marco asked. "It's pretty crowded in here." 

"Uh, sure." 

They sat on a bench in the courtyard, the last of summer's flowers blooming lazily about them. 

Jean cast a furtive glance at the taller boy beside him. Their eyes met. Marco smiled again. That beautiful, sinful smile that just attacked Jean's heart. It should've been illegal to have such a deadly smile. 

Feeling that he'd come off as shy and quiet, Jean hurriedly asked, "so. Do you live around here? Never seen you before." 

"I do, actually, but the reason you haven't seen me around is because I moved in not too long ago." 

Made sense. 

"I'm going to Rosebell Secondary in September." 

Jean's eyes widened. "Hey, that's my school. Maybe I'll see you there, then. You older or younger than me? I'm 16." 

"17..." Marco replied, gazing down at his hands as if they were the most intriguing things in the world. He looked up suddenly, with hope on his face and said, "I was wondering if you wanted to see each other outside of school!" 

After a lull of confused silence, Marco quickly added, "I-if you want to, of course."

"Yeah, that'd be cool." Jean agreed, plastering on what he hoped was a believable not-nervous-at-all smile. 

"Let's exchange cell numbers." 

So they did. Jean left the courtyard with a lightness in his step and an airiness in his heart. What? It was true, even though it was cliched and girlish, the way he was acting. He didn't recall being this happy in ages.

He didn't even care when his sister grumbled at him for being the slowest ass in the universe. He was too happy to care. And, as promised, he got her Starbucks. 

***

"This is our personal constellation, all right?" 

Jean was vaguely aware that it was his voice speaking, though he didn't remember saying anything like what he was hearing now. 

His hand reached out; it felt like he was lying down. He gently brushed his fingertips against smooth, soft skin and traced a pattern. 

There was a soft, adorable laugh, and then, "okay. This is ours." A warm hand settled itself atop Jean's, and then the whole illusion faded away. 

***

Jean yawned. Another day had come. It had been two weeks or so after he'd met Marco, and already they were getting along swimmingly.

Oddly enough, Marco seemed to find Jean's jokes funny, and in turn, Jean was incredibly at ease with Marco, due to his warm, understanding nature. 

They'd been out for coffee several times, and Jean quickly began to feel like they'd been friends for ages. Marco, thankfully, felt the same way. At least, that was what Jean hoped. 

Today they'd made plans just to hang out, nothing really specific in mind. It kept things freer, more easy going, Jean reasoned. 

To his mother's amazement, he trudged down the stairs fairly early, barely awake.

"What made you get up so early?" She inquired playfully. "Got a date or something?" 

_That_ sure made Jean wake up. His cheeks flushed as he snapped, "No, mom. It's not a date. Just a friend." 

His mother raised a curious eyebrow. "I'd beg to differ," she began, "but I don't see what good that'd do. Denial isn't healthy, Jean~" she advised in a singsongy tone. 

Jean rolled his eyes. His mom probably thought he was meeting a girl. Couldn't a guy be happy just seeing a good friend? 

He threw a bowl of cereal together and sat down to eat it. Meanwhile, his mother gazed at him with an all-knowing expression. Jean groaned inwardly and frowned. "If you must know,"he blurt out, "I'm going to see a guy friend. Name's Marco."

His mother didn't look too fazed. Well, great. Now, apparently, he was homosexual too. 

"You know what? Just forget it." Jean muttered, scooping the last of the cereal into his mouth. He placed the bowl in the sink and went back upstairs without another word.

***

He was out the door not much later, shrugging on a sweater while shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. Autumn was rapidly approaching, as the days gradually grew shorter and the air turned colder. 

As it was, this particular day was turning out to be rather chilly. Glad that his mother had insisted on the sweater, he strode down the street, hands in his pockets. 

Jean was in a surprisingly good mood. He attributed that to the fact that he hadn't seen Eren in over two months. But a voice in his head said, _please. This is all because of Marco and you know it._

Of course it isn't, Jean told himself. It wasn't normal to get so excited over seeing a friend, especially one of the same gender. It...suggested things. 

So no, his impossibly good mood wasn't Marco's doing. It wasn't. 

Annoyed by the direction his train of thoughts was going, Jean was relieved to see Marco when he turned the corner. Sometimes he over thought things way too much. 

"Hi Jean," Marco greeted, a gentle smile on his face, eyes crinkled shut. 

"Oh, h-hey," Jean replied, tripping a bit over the simple phrase. Honestly, how much lamer could he get? 

However, it didn't seem to bother Marco much. The other boy laughed kindly and said, "should we get going?" 

Jean nodded, grateful that Marco was just so understanding. He didn't exactly know how it was possible for someone to be so kind, but he wasn't complaining. 

They walked alongside each other companionably, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other's presence. 

Stopping by a quaint cafe yielded interesting events. There was a small painting hung on the cream coloured wall, a replica of Van Gogh's Starry Night. Marco's eyes lit up as soon as he saw it, his smile ever so slightly brighter than before. 

He really did love stars, it seemed. 

Jean was becoming fond of them, as well. On calm, quiet nights when the sky was clear, he'd look up at them, a few pinpricks of light scattered across an ocean of black. It made him think of Marco, without fail. 

Though they lived in the suburbs, light pollution still caused many stars to look invisible. Only the brightest ones shone through, but they were beautiful just the same. 

They'd been sitting in the cafe, sipping at their hot drinks when Marco told him, "I'd really like to see a sky full of stars one day." 

Jean tilted his head. Had Marco been reading his mind? 

"You know, out in the country. Where there's nothing to block the way." 

Jean nodded at the idea. He agreed whole heartedly. He actually... Really wanted that to happen. "I'd like that, too," he admitted. 

"I'm glad you feel the same way," Marco said. He hesitated, before asking, "how about we do that together? Sometime in the future, of course." 

Jean jumped at the offer, secretly eager, but trying to keep up his image prevented him from crying out, "yeah, definitely!" 

Instead, he opted for "yeah, it'd be a lot of fun." 

Regardless, Marco was satisfied with his answer, and cheerily drank his tea. 

They chatted amicably for a while, recounting funny stories and sharing personal interests. 

"So..." Marco began hesitantly. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" 

Jean nearly spat out a mouthful of hot chocolate. As it was, he choked a bit and Marco jumped, immediately bringing his hand up to rub at Jean's back. 

"Sorry," he said apologetically. "That was probably a bit too nosy." 

"No," Jean managed. "It just... Caught me off guard a bit." He thought about how to answer, and suddenly came to realise that Mikasa hadn't crossed his mind in a long while. Odd. In any case, he replied, "I haven't had a girlfriend, but there's someone I'm interested in." 

Intrigued, Marco tilted his head slightly and leaned in a bit. 

"Her name's Mikasa," he said reverently. "Asian, you know?" 

Marco pulled back, with what seemed like a forced smile and laughed nervously. "That's great," he assured Jean. "Maybe... I could help, even," he offered lamely. 

Noticing the change in atmosphere, Jean raised an eyebrow and asked, "you all right, Marco?" 

"Never better." Was the instant reply, and that was that. It was clear Marco didn't want to talk about it. 

Unexplainable guilt weighed on Jean's mind. He felt responsible somehow, as if it was his fault for bringing Marco down. Now what could he possibly do to fix it? 

Ignoring the part of his brain that told him he'd done nothing wrong, Jean looked steadily at Marco and said, "until we can go to the country, how about you come over and see the stars from my house?"

And then, just like that, the light was back in Marco's eyes and he gave a pleased smile and a nod. "That'd be awesome," he said, a small dimple visible in his right cheek. "Really awesome." 

"Saturday night, then?" Jean proposed, a curiously buoyant feeling in his chest. 

"All right." Marco agreed. "It's a date." He added cheekily. 

Jean's eyes widened, and he glanced around to see if anyone had heard before mumbling back, "I guess so." 

The adorable smile on Marco's face made everything worth it. 

***

Saturday approached rapidly, and every time Jean's phone notified him about a new text, he grabbed at it desperately. More often than not it was a text from Eren, continuing their exchange of insults. It was usually amusing to see what new nickname he'd come up with to call Jean, but now the messages only made him sigh and toss his phone back over to the side. 

What was wrong with him? He was acting like an obsessive lovesick girlfriend, for crying out loud! 

Another loud beep burst out of his phone, and Jean hesitated before picking it back up. It was probably Eren. Or maybe his dad, telling him he'd be late for dinner and not to wait. 

So Jean was completely caught off guard when the name blinking on the screen was that of a certain Marco. Marco Polo. The corner of his mouth turned up. It never failed to amuse him, the nickname he'd set for Marco's number. Of course, the boy in question had no idea about it. 

He focused his attention on the message. 

**[Hey, Jean. Can I come over at 9 tomorrow?]**

**[Sure]** He wrote back, typing the first thing that came to mind. 

Jean wanted to smack his head against the wall. Seriously, was that the best reply he could come up with? 

**[I'll bring some binoculars :) ]**

**[Great~]**

Jean sighed. Honestly. His awkwardness bothered him so much. 

His phone beeped once more, and he glanced down at it. 

**[Night, Jean. See u tmrw]**

**[Night, Marco]**

As the conversation ended, Jean let his cell drop to the blanket, collapsing onto his bed. Tomorrow couldn't come any faster. 

***

Tears. Sliding down his cheeks, leaving warm wet trails in their wake.

A wracking sob. 

"I miss our constellation..." He whispered. "Please let me see it again. Just once." 

There was no response. 

"I miss you... Ma-..." 

His eyes shot open, sweat running down his back as he tried to control his breathing. 

What? 

It was still dark in his bedroom, the curtains drawn tightly shut. The glowing numbers on his clock read 3:19 A.M.

Who, and what had he been dreaming about? 

He shifted the blankets away to get some fresh air and breathed deeply through his nose. Jean rarely got nightmares, and even then they weren't very scary. This one hadn't been, though it was most certainly not a happy dream, either. 

There was a deep sadness weighing down on his chest, but he had no reason to be sad. In fact-it was Saturday, wasn't it? Marco was coming. 

He let that thought overcome his mind, dulling the pain. And he fell asleep again with a serene expression on his face. 

***

"Your father and I are going out to tonight," his mother said conversationally. "Your sister's got a sleepover." 

Jean raised an eyebrow. 

"I expect no crazy parties, you hear? Just that one friend is fine." 

Letting the news sink in, Jean's eyes widened. Wait... This meant that he was going to be alone with Marco. Well. Things couldn't get much more awkward. He didn't want to admit it, but the idea pleased him very much. Hopefully Marco wouldn't mind. 

Jean barely remembered how he spent the day. He vaguely recalled playing video games and eating a lot of junk food. He'd also cleaned his room up. Just a bit. Obviously he didn't want Marco to see the boxers he usually left strewn about the floor.

His sister left the house first, toting a sleeping bag and pillow, excitement on her face. Jean, who had been passing by on his way to the kitchen, told her to have a good time. Just because he was in a good mood. She looked at him like he'd grown another head and said a reluctant thanks before stepping out the door. 

What, he wasn't allowed to be nice? Was that such a strange thing for him to do? Wow. 

His parents left next, with obligatory words on safety and appropriate behaviour. "We're going to Sasha's. We'll be out quite late, if we don't end up staying the night," his father told him. "I'll text you." 

"Don't eat too much," Jean chuckled. Sasha always had an insane amount of food in her house. She was the one who ate it all, mostly. But visitors were welcome to have some as well. 

"Yes, yes," his dad said playfully. "You want anything?" 

"No, dad, it's all right." 

And then they were gone. Jean nervously scratched the back of his head as he checked the clock hanging on the wall. 8:30. 

Half an hour left. 

He surfed the web absentmindedly, reblogging random things to his tumblr. So occupied was he that he barely noticed the ring of the doorbell. 

Jumping a little in his seat, Jean shut his laptop with a snap and hurried to answer the door. Breathless and embarrassed, he was greeted by the sight of Marco, shifting his weight from side to side, hand steadying a bag hanging from his shoulder. 

"Hi," they both said simultaneously, making them burst into fit of laughter. The tension dissolved quickly after that. 

"Come on upstairs," Jean told Marco. "Unless you're hungry? Can I get you anything?" 

Marco shook his head. "I ate already, don't worry." He followed Jean up the staircase, glancing around his surroundings. "Your house is nice," he remarked casually, and Jean laughed. "It's the same as any old house, really." He replied. 

It was so comfortable, the way their conversations just flowed. It was natural, almost like breathing.

The sun had just set by the time they settled into Jean's room. There was the faintest burn of orange against the horizon, the only trace of the sun left.

Jean opened the door to the balcony and ushered Marco out. "We're going up to the roof,"he said calmly, as if he were talking about something mundane, like the weather. 

"Huh, what? Really?" Marco asked in amazement. 

"Really."

As the balcony was located off to the side of the house, appearances didn't matter quite as much. That was why there was a sturdy rope ladder attached beside it, leading up to the roof. 

"My dad," Jean explained. "He likes it up there, too. Thinks it's peaceful." 

Marco nodded, extremely understanding about the whole thing. He didn't even ask if it was safe, or comment on the weirdness. After all, most people didn't have a ladder stuck into the outer wall of their houses. 

He merely followed Jean up and waited. Jean spread a blanket and gestured for him to sit. They settled there, on the roof, the night air cool around them and the sounds of crickets filling the silence. 

It _was_ peaceful. 

After a moment of companionable silence, Marco pulled out a pair of binoculars from his bag and offered them to ean. 

Shaking his head, he leaned back on his arms and said, "You first." 

Marco eagerly placed them to his eyes and marvelled up at the starry sky. "Constellations..." He whispered. 

_Constellations._

The word triggered something in Jean's brain. It felt like he didn't remember... Didn't remember what? He didn't know. 

Marco leaned closer to him and left one lens for Jean to look through. "There-it's Polaris." He pointed. "Can you see it?" 

Jean peered through the glass, searching the vast space for that one star. He saw it a couple seconds later, a smile of satisfaction taking over his face. "I see it." 

Marco lowered the binoculars, content to just gaze at the stars with his bare eyes. 

Jean turned ever so slightly to face Marco, and was shocked to see their faces were inches away. At this proximity, it was easy to see each other in sharp clarity. Marco's freckles seemed to glow under the effervescent starlight, small flecks of pure silver, like fragments of stars. 

Jean's heartbeat thrummed, and he unconsciously raised a hand to brush lightly against them, fingertips tracing a pattern. 

Marco gasped at the touch and turned to stare at Jean in surprise. 

Jean connected several of the specks together with an imaginary line. 

A heart. A heart on Marco's left cheek. 

"Our personal constellation." Marco murmured, looking up through his eyelashes at Jean. 

"Ours." 

Kissing Marco was the most right thing Jean had ever done in his life. 

Gentle, soft and sweet, those were Marco's lips. It was a chaste affair, entirely closed mouthed, but it hardly mattered. All they knew was that it was _right._

They separated, breaths slightly faster and faces flushed. 

Jean wrapped his arms around Marco loosely and they laid down beside each other. 

"Are you feeling déjà vu, too?" Jean asked. 

"Y...yeah..." 

Good. It wasn't just him. 

"Jean?" Marco ventured tentatively. 

"Hmm?" 

"I... I know this is going to sound hasty, but I feel like I've known you for my whole life, and Jean? I think I... I love you."

Jean buried his nose in Marco's dark hair and sighed. "I... I think I must love you too... If my heartbeat's any indication." 

Marco placed an ear to Jean's chest and listened, distinctly hearing the beat of a racing heart. 

"Hey Marco? Let's go out." Jean suggested. Marco stiffened, and shuffled closer to Jean before relaxing.

"Of course."

The warmth of Marco's body was so comforting... Almost like an extra blanket on a chilly winter night. 

While observing the stars once more, Marco remarked, "You know what, Jean?" 

Jean waited. 

"Who needs to go out to the country? This is perfect." 

To show his appreciation, Jean kissed every freckle that made up their own personal constellation.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm contemplating whether or not to write a smutty add-on to this fic as an extra chapter... Thoughts? Feel free to let me know through comments or my [tumblr](http://omchan.tumblr.com/) or whatever uwu


End file.
